The Brief

Eight months ago, a fire broke out at a massive World War II-era hangar in Tustin, spewing toxic smoke into the air and sending asbestos-laden debris raining over the surrounding communities. LAist has now mapped just how far and wide that debris fell and which neighborhoods bore the brunt of the fallout, based on data obtained by LAist from the city of Tustin.

The data illustrate the chaotic nature of the cleanup, and the panic and frustration felt by many residents as they sought help and guidance in navigating a major disaster. It affected an estimated 14,000 people and had potentially serious health consequences.

In all, the records show people reported ash and debris from the fire as far as 10 miles from the hangar, although the vast majority of reports were within three miles.

Explore the map

This is the first publicly available map showing the spread of where fire debris was reported across the county, based on public records. The fire, which started on Nov. 7 and lasted for 24 days, torched one of the largest wooden structures ever built — 17 stories high and covering an area larger than five football fields.

The cleanup — which is still underway more than eight months after the fire broke out — has so far cost taxpayers around $90 million, according to Tustin officials. The bulk of that sum has been spent to remove debris presumed to contain asbestos, once considered a "wonder material" and used widely. It's now known to cause lung disease and cancer.

Hundreds of workers have spent months combing the surrounding neighborhoods in hazmat suits, searching through bushes for chunks of charred, fibrous debris (a sign that it may contain asbestos), vacuuming ash off patios, and in some cases, hauling away soot-covered lawn furniture and cushions, which can't be fully cleaned of asbestos.

"It was a tremendous undertaking," said Tustin Mayor Austin Lumbard. "We've made so much progress over these last months, and I'm very proud of it."

Multiple state and federal agencies were involved in developing and implementing the cleanup protocols, which officials say sought to balance safety with speed as they dealt with hundreds of cleanup requests daily in the first few weeks of the fire.

The cause of the fire remains under investigation.

Nearly 1,400 addresses mapped

Through public records requests, LAist identified 1,382 addresses where either a resident reported debris from the hangar fire or a city contractor inspected a property for fire debris. The vast majority of the addresses correspond to private homes, but the data also includes parks, businesses and schools.

The largest concentration of reports was from Columbus Square, the neighborhood directly north of the hangar site.

People reported debris as far north as the Anaheim Hills and as far west as Foothill Ranch — both about 10 miles away from the burn site.

Workers hired by a condo association clean the exterior of homes in Columbus Square after testing in December found asbestos and lead.

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Brian Feinzimer

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LAist

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It’s important to note that the city's records for these and hundreds of other addresses where debris was reported are incomplete: Often, the records were not updated following inspection, making it hard to determine whether debris was found, and whether that debris likely contained asbestos, according to the records given to LAist by the city.

Because of this, it's unclear exactly how far away from the fire asbestos-containing debris was confirmed. But documents obtained by LAist from the Orange County Fire Authority show that debris containing asbestos was confirmed at least three miles northeast of the hangar, likely carried by Santa Ana winds that blew in the days following the fire break-out.

How did the fire start?

The Orange County Fire Authority was alerted in the early hours of Nov. 7 to a fire at one of two historic hangars that housed blimps used to patrol for enemy submarines off the U.S. coastline during World War II. The hangars were commissioned in 1942. Because of wartime steel rationing, they were built almost entirely of wood — 2.7 million board feet each. That's roughly equivalent to the amount of timber contained in four-and-a-half General Sherman giant sequoias or about 5,400 average size homes.

A historic view of the sprawling interior of one of the blimp hangers at the former military base.

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City of Tustin

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When firefighters arrived on scene, they could find no working hydrant near the smoking hangar, according to fire authority records obtained by LAist. The hangar was equipped with a sprinkler system, but it was "non-operational," according to Navy spokesperson Christopher Dunne. Dunne told LAist that utilities on the former military base, including water systems, were transferred to the city of Tustin in May 2002.

Using fire engines and two water-dropping helicopters, more than 100 firefighters fought the blaze. But they ultimately decided to let it burn out, in part because of the risk to first responders that the structure would collapse.

Despite ample documentation from the Navy and the city of Tustin showing that asbestos, lead paint and chemicals were used extensively throughout the building, officials did not initially warn residents and onlookers that smoke and debris from the fire could be particularly dangerous.

Cars, trucks and apartment buildings near the remaining Tustin hangar offer a sense of scope: The hangar that burned down was built with the same amount of lumber it would take to build about 5,400 average-sized homes.

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Brian Feinzimer

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LAist

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The historic blimp hangar, at right, seen as it burned on Nov. 7, 2023.

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Jae C. Hong

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Associated Press

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As the building burned, nearby residents, veterans and others with sentimental ties to the former Tustin air base flocked to the fenceline to get a final glimpse of the beloved hangars.

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Jae C. Hong

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AP

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A closer look at the damaged hull left behind.

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Courtesy André J. Ausseresses

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As the building burned, nearby residents, veterans and others with sentimental ties to the former Tustin air base flocked to the fenceline to get a final glimpse of the beloved hangars. Children at nearby elementary schools collected chunks of the charred hangar as mementos. Gardeners unwittingly spread debris around with leaf blowers.

It wasn't until nearly two days after the fire broke out that the South Coast Air Quality Management District released the results of testing showing that some fire debris contained up to 37% asbestos. Subsequent testing would find fire debris that contained up to 75% asbestos, according to documents obtained by LAist from the county fire authority.

When breathed in, asbestos fibers can become lodged in the lungs and cause serious health consequences that often don't show up until decades later. Asbestos exposure is linked to more than 40,000 deaths in the U.S. each year, according to the Environmental Protection Agency.

Other official testing from the early days of the fire found trace amounts of asbestos in air samples, and elevated levels of lead and other heavy metals inside the smoke plume, although subsequent air quality testing was within normal parameters.

The test results kicked the fire response into high gear.

The city declared a local state of emergency and closed all parks. The Tustin Unified School District temporarily closed all of its schools and implemented distance learning. The Orange County Health Care Agency advised people to stay indoors, keep windows closed, and avoid touching ash or debris from the fire. Some people would end up waiting weeks for city contractors to remove toxic debris from their front porches, yards and balconies.

How bureaucracy complicated the cleanup

The cleanup has faced challenges from the beginning, in part because of the web of agencies and jurisdictions involved and the sheer spread of the debris as documented in the map. Since the military base closed in 1999, much of the land has been sold off and turned into shopping centers, schools, apartments and neighborhoods — including many of those heavily affected by toxic fire debris.

But the Navy has retained ownership of both hangars and the land immediately surrounding them, while it monitors the status of groundwater contaminants stemming from their former use. The contaminants are primarily per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS) and trichloroethylene (TCE). (The contaminated groundwater underneath the former Tustin base is not used for drinking water.)

Hundreds of workers toiled daily during the weeks following the hangar fire breakout, collecting and bagging potentially toxic debris.

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Jill Replogle

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LAist

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The Navy, however, doesn't maintain the base, so the county and city of Tustin were forced to take charge of the fire and the subsequent cleanup.

The cleanup has also been complicated because asbestos remediation is highly regulated. Cleanup plans require approval from the local Air Quality Management District, and anyone who oversees testing or removal of asbestos must be certified by the state.

The voices of panic, frustration

On Nov. 12, five days after the fire broke out, asbestos contractors began cleaning up debris in public areas around the hangar site.

By then, residents were desperate to know whether they had asbestos debris in their yards and inside their homes, and if so, how to get it properly cleaned.

On Nov. 14, the city announced it was launching a call center and online form where residents could report debris and request a cleanup. The city reported receiving 853 cleanup requests in the first three days, according to a memo from O.C. fire division chief Craig Covey.

Contractors wouldn't start picking up debris on private property until two weeks after the fire broke out, according to city records.

An LAist review of reports that came through the city's call center and debris reporting portal from Nov. 14 through Jan. 9 highlights residents' distress over the toxicity of fallout that covered roofs, patios, and yards. In some cases, residents reported that ash and debris got inside their homes.

"Our front patio, balcony above the garage, window sills inside and out, windows (inside and out) our air and HVAC ducts, on our driveway, our garage door, garage floor and exterior doors," one resident reported to the city on Nov. 17, documenting where they had found fire remnants.

Another reported on Dec. 7 that they were having severe "upper respiratory symptoms and would really appreciate you coming as soon as possible."

Some residents became frustrated after making multiple requests for cleanup. One resident reported to the city on Nov. 22: "This is my third submission. I need someone to inspect the ash on our patio and deck and roof and clean. I am a high-risk individual and have been displaced (staying elsewhere) because of this."

Reports also came in from neighboring Irvine, including from one woman who said she and her kids went to the hospital because of respiratory problems during the fire. She said it had been "impossible" to breathe at home. "We have very old windows and all ashes and small pieces of debris entered in my home," she wrote.

The limitations of the cleanup

The cleanup in residential areas has dragged on for months, and the city's asbestos contractors often went out to addresses multiple times, according to records reviewed by LAist. Residents were required to be present and sign a waiver giving workers permission to enter the exterior part of their property to assess and remove fire debris. If contractors found no one home, they would leave a flier on the door with a QR code inviting the resident to re-submit a request for cleanup. Many residents were frustrated with the process.

There was "no real definitive date or time from like a scheduling or RSVP perspective," Jeff Lawrence, a Columbus Square resident, told LAist in December.

The city's asbestos contractors did not clean rooftops or second story balconies, according to Stephanie Najera, a spokesperson for the city of Tustin. Najera wrote in an email to LAist that the cleanup "prioritized prompt and safe removal of debris from accessible ground-level areas, where the greatest potential existed for contact with the material."

But interviews with residents and records show that debris often didn't stay put in inaccessible places. Some residents filed follow-up requests after rain or wind brought debris into areas that had already been cleaned. Rooftops were a major source of this recontamination.

In one cleanup request filed with the city on Nov. 16, the resident wrote: "Cleaning crew came today but did not remove from my front patio, second story patio or roof. Now that it has rained, my rain gutters are full and clogged with debris that was on the roof, causing the debris to overflow and cover the ground again."

Lawrence, in a recent email to LAist, wrote of the repeat cleanups: "It’s literally a joke. Instead of doing it right the first time they properly wasted millions of dollars doing it the wrong way."

Documentation of the work done at individual homes was often sparse, according to interviews with residents and the city records reviewed by LAist.

When clean-up crews arrived at Lawrence's home in late November, workers advised him that the outdoor couches and other patio furniture in his backyard were contaminated and should be thrown away. But Lawrence said the workers provided no documentation of what they took or of the other remediation work they did on his property, which could be important for things like insurance claims and future liability.

"Other than our own, you know, security cameras, we have nothing that shows that they took anything or did anything or what they cleaned, what they didn't," he told LAist.

The city's asbestos contractors also generally did not test fire debris on private property for asbestos, despite residents' expectations that they would.

Initially, the city's published information — on their website and on fliers — about the cleanup process explained to residents that an asbestos specialist would visit their home, collect samples of debris for testing, and then advise them whether or not the debris had asbestos. If so, a cleanup crew would be dispatched back to the home.

In reality, the city's asbestos contractors primarily relied on visual inspections, according to Najera, to assess whether debris was likely to contain asbestos.

That left some residents anxious and uncertain about their safety.

"HELP US!!!!!" one resident wrote to the city on Nov. 22, in all caps. "WE HAVE NOW CONTACTED THIS ‘PORTAL’ THREE TIMES WITH NO RESPONSE! WE HAVE ASBESTOS IN OUR BACKYARD AND NO ONE HAS COME TO TEST IT OR CLEAN IT UP DESPITE OUR NUMEROUS PHONE CALLS AND SUBMISSIONS FOR HELP!!!!!!"

Lawrence, for his part, ended up paying private companies to test his home for asbestos in mid-November and mid-December. They documented asbestos-laden fire debris on the roof, in the gutters, and in the backyard, according to their reports, which were reviewed by LAist. They did not find asbestos in dust samples taken inside his home.

The cleanup bill totalled $12,718, which Lawrence's insurance covered. He told LAist in an email that his family still has "thousands of dollars" in claims stemming from the tossed patio furniture and other losses from the fire.

Najera told LAist in an email that the city's contracted asbestos specialists and remediation teams responded to all reports of debris. She said "the cleanup methodology and documentation protocols were approved by the federal EPA, state Department of Toxic Substances Control, the South Coast Air Quality District, and the Orange County Health Care Agency."

What the city’s test results found

In the weeks following the hangar fire, Lumbard, Tustin's mayor, repeatedly asked for help from the state and the Navy to deal with what he called an unprecedented disaster for the small city with a population of 78,000. The state declined to issue a disaster declaration related to the hangar fire, which could have opened up federal funding and other assistance for the city and its affected residents and businesses.

State Sen. Josh Newman later took up the effort, crafting a resolution urging President Joe Biden to declare the hangar fire a national emergency "to address the ongoing impacts on public health, the environment, and the local economy." The resolution, which passed through the state legislature on July 1, also asks the president and Congress to dedicate $100 million in supplemental funding for the cleanup effort.

Lumbard, in an interview with LAist, said the city was forced to handle an emergency not of its making.

"This is ultimately the Navy's responsibility," Lumbard said of the fire and the cleanup. "I'm just proud of the way the city was able to step up in a void of leadership and take action because our community needed help."

Earlier this year — several months after the hangar fire finally burnt out — Tustin hired experts to test outdoor soil and indoor dust and air samples at 50 homes near the hangar site. In May, they announced the results, saying that "no asbestos fibers were identified in soil, indoor air, or indoor dust above health screening criteria in any of the 80 homes."

Still, the debate over the fire's impact on residents' health and finances is far from over — at least two class action lawsuits and an unknown number of individual claims are in the works.

And the cleanup is not over. The Navy plans to finish dismantling the torched hangar and begin removing toxic debris from the former military base on Monday.

It's expected to take up to a year.

Maloy Moore and Brian Frank also contributed to this report.

Public health officials are urging people to be wary of flea-borne typhus after a recent outbreak of the illness.

The outbreak in late July was centered in the Pico-Union neighborhood of Los Angeles. The L.A. County Department of Public Health said five people were hospitalized; all recovered.

The outbreak comes as typhus cases continue to tick up in L.A. County.

Cases have been increasing fairly steadily for more than a decade, but they nearly doubled over the last three years. The Public Health Department logged a record 220 cases in 2025, and officials say this year is on track to exceed that.

Public health officials say the increase is likely because human-animal interactions are also increasing. That could be due to human population expansions into areas with more animals, available food sources for wildlife in populated areas or more people owning pets.

The bacteria that causes typhus is transmitted from animals to humans through fleas.

Typhus can’t be passed from one human to another, and public health experts say the illness is completely treatable, especially if it’s caught early.

Outbreaks and how to prevent them

Most of the time, typhus cases are spread out across L.A. County. But sometimes, there’s a localized spread over a short period of time that turns into an outbreak.

Public health officials respond to a few of them in L.A. County each year.

Generally, outbreaks are triggered by high concentrations of host animals.

“Wherever these animals may be present or wherever they may be congregating, in those areas we can see an increase in the number of human infections,” said Dr. Aiman Halai with the L.A. County Department of Public Health.

The most common hosts for typhus are rats, opossums and free-roaming cats. When people or pets come in contact with host animals, they can pick up the infected fleas and bring them into homes, spreading them to other people and animals in the process.

Halai says a variety of factors can attract animals and lead to an outbreak, including overflowing dumpsters, overgrown vegetation or a well-meaning neighbor feeding local critters.

You can help prevent outbreaks by securing trash in bins, making sure food isn’t left outside, and ensuring pets are on up-to-date flea control medication. Cutting back overgrown vegetation and blocking off crawl spaces can eliminate places where animals can shelter in and around homes.

Halai also says it’s important not to feed wildlife.

Should you be worried?

Although public health experts are wary of the typhus uptick in L.A. County, the 220 cases recorded in 2025 in L.A. County are not overly concerning.

"That’s a very  low rate at the population level,” said Dr. Jeffrey Klausner, a professor of infectious diseases at USC’s Keck School of Medicine.

Typhus is an acute infection caused by bacteria known as Rickettsia typhi. Variations of the bacteria also cause other illnesses transmitted by fleas, ticks, lice and mites, including tick-borne Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever.

Doctors can test for typhus fairly easily, and it is treatable with antibiotics. Symptoms are similar to the flu, and can include fever, headaches, muscle aches and nausea. It can also cause rashes in some cases.

Most infections are mild, but they can cause hospitalization and, in rare cases, can be fatal.

Klausner said the concern is that testing for typhus is not always routine.

“The most important thing is that when patients come in to their doctor — and they have fever, they may have a rash, they may have headache, may have muscle or joint aches — that the doctor's thinking about potentially flea-borne infectious diseases because the treatment can be different,” Klausner said.

The best treatment for typhus is the antibiotic doxycycline. If a patient with typhus gets another type of antibiotic like penicillin or amoxicillin, the treatment may not be as successful.

According to Klausner, when presented with flu-like symptoms, it’s also a good idea for patients to tell their doctors if they’ve been around animals, spent time in an encampment or even just gone on a hike.

Topline:

Why it matters: The small amphibian is found in the grasslands of Southern California and the Central Valley. But habitat loss, urban sprawl and longer droughts have been threatening the species’ population in recent decades.

What the protections do: Now that the Western spadefoot is a candidate for permanent protections, any development project planned for Western spadefoot habitats will have to take the amphibians into account.

Some exceptions may apply: The commission did carve out exceptions for solar projects in the Central Valley. To take advantage of federal tax credit deadlines, some projects can continue to be built, as long as they protect breeding pools and curtail construction during the season when spadefoots are most active.

What conservationists say: Brendan Cummings, conservation director with the Center for Biological Diversity, said in Southern California the biggest threat to the Western spadefoot is not solar development: “It’s warehouses or data centers and road widenings and all manner of construction activities.”

What happens next: The California Department of Fish and Wildlife will conduct a year-long review to determine if the Western spadefoot should be permanently protected.

More than two dozen California Assembly Democrats and one state senator sent a letter Wednesday to legislative leaders asking them to delay fees under SB 54, the state’s landmark plastic reduction law, for two years — an eleventh-hour push as the Legislature hurtles toward the end of session.

The letter, addressed to Senate President Pro Tempore Monique Limón and Assembly Speaker Robert Rivas, was signed by 23 Assemblymembers and Sen. Melissa Hurtado. It asks lawmakers to pause fee assessment and collection this year and next, commit to a “reform package” next session, and increase legislative oversight of the program going forward.

The request lands amid a broader fight over how the plastics law is rolling out. Little by little California is demanding that the packages you pick up at your doorstep or at the store contain less plastic. A law Gov. Gavin Newsom signed four years ago aims to phase out 25% of non-recyclable, non-compostable plastic by 2032.

To get there, the state tasked a nonprofit, the Circular Action Alliance, with drafting a plan to meet the state goals. The group estimated the work would cost $17.2 billion over five years – and is asking for a three-year exemption from the source-reduction deadline.

But as the state moves to implement the law, questions are mounting over how the organization calculates the fees producers — and eventually consumers — will pay, and how much oversight the group actually faces.

Industry groups say the price tag for complying with the law could be tens of billions of dollars higher than California originally estimated. An industry-commissioned study found the law could cost consumers three times what the state projected — between $683 and $948 a year, rather than $190.

That means groceries, shampoo bottles and other consumer goods packed in plastic could cost a little more as the law takes effect.

The California Department of Resources Recycling and Recovery, which oversees implementation, declined an interview but said in a written statement that the law puts consumers first and pushes producers to design packaging with recycling in mind.

“Californians are facing rising costs and pollution from increasingly complex packaging that wasn’t designed for the recycling systems local governments, ratepayers, and the state developed and funded over the past four decades,” said CalRecycle director Zoe Heller. “The law’s rollout is a dial, not a switch, giving producers flexibility to redesign packaging, invest in recycling systems, reduce single-use plastics, and make adjustments along the way,” she added.

Watching the watchers

The Circular Action Alliance published its fee schedule in June, spelling out what each producer owes into the system. The fees could add up to more than $10 million for some businesses, according to the Dairy Institute of California. The Dairy Institute is a trade association that represents milk processors and dairy product manufacturers.

But unlike a state agency, the Circular Action Alliance answers to almost no one, said Katie Davey, executive director of the Dairy Institute.

“[The alliance] does not have to go through an audit by the state auditor. They’re not subject to the (California open government law) Brown Act. They’re not subject to public records requests. The Legislature does not approve their budget and does not approve how many employees they need, or how many fees they can charge,” Davey said.

As a private nonprofit, Circular Action Alliance indeed is not subject to the Brown Act or public-records law — but records it submits to CalRecycle or other government entities may be.

CalRecycle must approve its fee schedule and implementation plan, and has the authority to audit the organization’s performance, said CalRecycle spokesperson Lance Klug, who added that the plastics law includes provisions to ensure the group’s budget and fees are appropriate.

The alliance’s role “is not to set California policy,” said its spokesperson, Larine Urbina. “Our role is to implement the framework established by SB 54 under CalRecycle’s oversight.”

Davey said the gap extends to enforcement. Businesses that fall short will face so-called malus fees, which fund bonuses for those that comply. But the Circular Action Alliance hasn’t said what those fees will be.

Shane Gusman, a lobbyist for the Teamsters, which represents hundreds of thousands of California workers, raised similar concerns. “They’re a wholly independent nonprofit organization that has no oversight. That’s part of the problem.” The union backed the plastics law hoping it would boost jobs; Guzman now says the fees could affect workers too.

Shortly after the alliance published its fee schedule, Davey and a coalition of industry leaders — including the California Restaurant Association, the California League of Food Producers, the American Forest and Paper Association and the Print Creative Alliance — commissioned a study disputing CalRecycle’s numbers.

It found CalRecycle’s 2025 estimate of $21 billion in implementation costs, or $190 a year per California household, rests on “idealized assumptions that fail to capture real-world costs and complications the regulations will create.”

The study puts the number somewhere between $35 and $58 billion, rising after the implementation period.

Klug of CalRecycle said the agency’s earlier reports were just estimates. “The actual costs will be determined by producer choices,” he said. “These costs, for example, will reflect the infrastructure needed to recycle materials that producers are choosing to use.”

Agriculture groups push back 

The biggest hurdle for producers is cutting plastic use 25% by 2032 — which state regulators say will require redesigning packaging and shifting toward reusable products, such as dishes at restaurants and paper-based packaging for produce.

Business groups say they support the state’s goals but call the timeline unworkable.

Food safety is one sticking point: alternatives like paper-based containers for berries are less breathable and spoil faster, while heavier glass or cardboard adds transportation costs, said Casey Creamer, president of the California Fresh Fruit Association.

“We just don’t want to force something out and not be able to deliver a fresh, healthy commodity, or create a situation that has more significant or adverse environmental concerns just because we look at plastics and packaging in a silo,” Creamer said.

Environmental groups oppose any pause.

“All of us pay for plastic pollution through higher garbage bills and clean-ups of polluted beaches and waterways, not to mention the damage to our environment and our health,”said Nick Lapis, director of advocacy for Californians Against Waste.

Sen. Ben Allen, a Democrat representing coastal Los Angeles County who authored the law, said it’s time plastic producers are held accountable for the waste they produce.

“This 11th-hour Hail Mary is only trying to maintain status quo and avoid due responsibility, throwing years of good-faith negotiations, and affordability and sustainability improvements out the window,” he said in a statement about producers’ efforts to pause implementation of the law.

Businesses pass costs to consumers

Whether the plastics law is actually driving up grocery prices yet is hard to pin down. Creamer said businesses may already be factoring the organization’s planned fees into their prices.

Federal data show grocery prices dipped slightly in July from June, though prices have climbed year over year and that rate is accelerating, said Richard Volpe, a consumer-price expert at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. Neither the USDA nor the Bureau of Labor Statistics has released August figures, and no data yet isolates the state plastics law’s effect from broader inflation.

Volpe said retailers, who run on thin margins, will eventually pass costs on to consumers — but probably not right away.

“It will not happen overnight,” he said. “And it will still be relatively small, mostly on the order of pennies on the dollar.”

Industry groups warn it will add up.

“If someone’s even on the cusp of food insecurity and they’re looking at $1,000 more a year, that’s pushing them over the food cliff,” said Nate Rose, a spokesperson for the California Grocers Association.

The Teamsters, which backed the plastics law hoping it would boost jobs, now worry the fees could affect workers too.

The law “has been morphed into something that is going to cost California consumers a substantial amount of money at a time when I don’t know if we need to spend thousands more on groceries,” said Gusman, the Teamsters lobbyist. “That also has an impact on the workforce.”